


Beacon

by Braincoins



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, F/M, Shallura Week 2017, Some mention of violence and death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-22 11:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11379429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: Allura's been captured and is being held with prisoners from a work camp. They're on their way to their deaths. Allura has to rally the prisoners to free themselves, keep them alive, and get them out... and that'd all be easier if she'd stop being distracted by thoughts of her Black Paladin.





	1. Time; Space

**Author's Note:**

> Shallura Week 2017 is here and I had to be ambitious with it. Rather than 7 disconnected one-shots, I'm doing 7 "chapters" of an overarching story. Each chapter fulfills (or tries to fulfill) _both_ prompts for a given day. Some of them succeed better than others. For that matter, some chapters are more Shallura-y than others, but I was trying to set forth an overall narrative that leads to some sweet Shallura action, okay?  
>  ======================

            She woke to darkness and disorientation. And, as she tried to sit up, pain – a searing stab of flame – shot along her nerves. She sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and tried again to set the world right. But there was no light and it felt like everything was spinning.

            _Focus_ , she told herself. _How did I end up here? Wherever here is._

            She closed her eyes so she’d have one less distraction. She tried to sharpen her mind’s eye since her physical ones were useless at the moment.

            Coran had spoken of a Galra work camp being slated for “liquidation.” Keith had insisted the prisoners had to be freed. Pidge had wanted to see if it was the camp her father was being held in. Shiro had calmed them all down and said they’d do everything they could.

            Just the memory of Shiro’s voice calmed her a little. He was so often the calm, steady center of the group. Remembering the gentle tone of his voice steadied her now, helped her head clear.

            The lions had gone in; the Castle had stayed above as air support. But… something had gone wrong. What had it been?

            Confused voices that talked over each other on the comm lines. Coran had insisted they stay aloft, that they could do more good up here. But then there’d been a pained cry and it had been Shiro. She could justify it later, because he was the leader, he was the Black Paladin, if he was gone, then Zarkon had no one to oppose him in his attempts to take control of the lion… None of that had mattered in the moment. _We have to save Shiro!_

Much of what followed was just flashes of emotion and sensation in her mind. Panic. Adrenaline. Fear to be pushed aside. _Shiro_. Her heart in her throat and no air in her lungs but she kept going, she had to. Shiro’s scream in her ears. She’d whipped around to see him hit the ground…

            Pain. Darkness. _How long has it been?_ She’d lost track of time.

            She opened her eyes and tried to push herself to her feet. No matter where she was, she had to find out if Shiro was okay! And Team Voltron! She had to know…

            She started toppling forward as soon as she stood. She expected to hit hard ground, but she landed on something soft and lumpy.

            “HEY!” an unfamiliar voice barked.

            “Sorry,” she said reflexively. She couldn’t move very well – it seemed her wrists and ankles were bound – and she had to roll off whoever it was she’d landed on. But she just hit someone else. It seemed there was very little room left to move (or even breathe) in.

            It took some squirming and a great many apologies, but she finally managed to find a little space for herself. “What’s going on? Where _are_ we?” she asked the myriad bodies around her. She still couldn’t see.

            “They really must’ve done a number on you, lady,” a small voice chirped at her. “Our camp was liquidated. We’re on our way back to the central empire. Back to the arena to act as cannon fodder before the Main Event.”

            “No,” she whispered. Panic surged in her again, but it was quickly overwhelmed by pain. She couldn’t bite back the cry it wrenched out of her. She wasn’t sure what was worse - the pain she was feeling now or…

            Shiro’s scream reverberated through her head. If they’d captured him, too, he’d be going back to the arena as well. Back to a torture he’d already lived through once.

            “Shiro? Hunk? Keith? Lance? Pidge?”

            There was a moment of quiet and then the small, squeaky voice piped up again, “No one here by those names.”

            She breathed a sigh of relief. Shiro wouldn’t have to go through this a second time, at least. But her heavy exhalation made her hiss. The pain of whatever wound she’d sustained was definitely getting worse than her worry over her paladin. Paladins. Plural. Yes.

            She’d been captured alongside the very people they’d sought to free. The pain was spinning her mind. _Shiro, don’t come after me this time. Please. Stay safe. The universe needs you and Voltron._

            “Hey, you alright?” someone else asked.

            “This… might be blood,” a voice right next to her said.

            “Stay with us.” It sounded to her like Shiro’s voice. But that couldn’t be because he wasn’t here. _I want to stay with you,_ she thought. _But I don’t know if I can._

            Just as she was starting to make out the vague shapes of her fellow prisoners, the darkness seemed to surge forward. Her last coherent thought was Shiro’s name.


	2. Hands; Names

            When she came to, there were hands on her. Her instinct was to thrash, to fight, to be free. But a deep, gentle voice said, “Be still; we are doing what we can to help you.”

            She wanted it to be Shiro’s voice but it wasn’t. It was… similar? Still, something in it reassured her. She laid there and let her eyes adjust to the darkness again. “Who are you?”

            “Your fellow prisoners,” the voice assured her.

            “They _really_ did a number on you,” the squeaky voice from before muttered.

            “N-no, I mean – what are your names?” she asked.

            Someone chuckled.

            Another voice whimpered, “I haven’t had a name in so long, I’m not sure I remember it anymore.”

            “What does it matter?” someone else piped up. “What use are names to the dead?”

            Allura struggled to sit up. Hands – bound together like her own – helped her up as best they could. “We’re not dead yet. And if I have anything to say about it, we’ll make it through this.”

            “Oh no, you’re one of _those_ ,” the squeaky voice groaned.

            “One of What?” she asked in annoyance.

            The squeaker didn’t seem to care about her shift in tone. “ _Heroes_ ,” they all but hissed. “Cause a lot of trouble for all of us and just get yourself killed that much faster.”

            “I might prefer that,” someone else said. “A quick slash of the blade, and it’s all over, without being entertainment for the bloodthirsty masses.”

            “We can’t just give up!” Allura insisted to them all.

            “Why not?” someone demanded. “What point in fighting? How would we even go about it? And why? What is there left to fight for? Everyone I care about is gone!”

            “Then you fight for them!”

            “Easy now,” the gentle voice said from behind her. “Your wounds are still healing. We’ve patched them up as best we can, but we can only do so much.”

            “I don’t have time to take it easy,” she declared.

            “You don’t have the energy to fight right now.”

            She whipped around towards the voice. “We’ll see about that.”

            They chuckled thinly and replied, “Well, if you’re this eager to fight now, with hands and ankles bound and wounds barely staunched, let alone healed, then think how much better off you’ll be once you’ve rested and healed up some.”

            She did ease down a little, if for no other reason than that she didn’t want them to think her ungrateful for their aid. It also helped that this sort-of Shiro voice was saying the same sort of thing Shiro would say if he were here. _Thank heavens he’s not._ “I’m sorry, you’re right. Can I ask your name?” _Please, please tell me so I’ll stop thinking of you as Sort-of Shiro. It’s… distracting._

There was a throat clearing and then silence. Just as she began to think they wouldn’t tell her, they proved her wrong. “Seron. My name is Seron.”

            She smiled, even if they couldn’t see it. “Thank you, Seron, for your aid and for sharing your name with me. I am Princess Allura of Altea.”

            That caused a murmur through the crowd in the cell. “Did she say ‘Altea’?”

            “Altea’s been gone since my grandfather’s grandfather’s time.”

            “I’ve never even heard of such a place.”

            It hit her again. Sometimes she thought she’d never stop being hurt by the reminder. But this was a pain she could push away, and she did so – for now. “Altea is not gone,” she informed them. “The planet and its system may have been destroyed – by Zarkon – but I am not the only Altean still alive.” She tried to think of Coran and not Haggar. “So long as her people exist, Altea lives on, even if only in our hearts.

            “I am a princess of no people, but I will not lay down and die at the Empire’s whim. I will show them what it means to be Altean, and I will declare my name proudly. Let them know that Allura of Altea died fighting and would not submit.”

            The silence was heavy in the cell, more all-consuming than the darkness.

            The squeaky voice broke the quiet. “Bedi. I’m Bedi.”

            She turned towards them. “Pleased to meet you, Bedi.”

            “Vyzax,” someone else said.

            “Olfew.”

            “Crasthexiope; please don’t call me Cras. I prefer Thex.”

            “Thex it shall be then,” she assured them.

            Each name filled the already-full cell, but she didn’t mind. The heat from the press of bodies around her felt less stultifying and more... warm. Welcoming. A hearthfire to curl up in front of.

            “I still don’t remember my name,” one voice broke, sounding on the edge of tears.

            Allura scooted over towards them, sure that she’d crash into people. Dark shapes scooted out of the way, and their hands caught her as she started to fall, helped her back up. She scooted until she was near the sniffling sound. Her bound hands fumbled until she could find the being’s hands as well, and she held them tight.

            “Then we shall call you Friend.”


	3. Trust; Growth

            Allura chatted with her new “friends.” They shared what they could with her about their current situation, as well as how they’d each come to be a prisoner of the Empire. She couldn’t help comparing what they said with what Shiro’d relayed of his own capture. Many of them had similar stories.

            Like Shiro, most of them were interrogated. Most of them had been deemed unfit for one-on-one arena battles and sent off to the work camps; some had been sent directly there as punishment for some crime. Stealing was the common admission, usually in order to get something denied them by the Empire.

            It was eye-opening for her. Most of them admitted that their day-to-day lives weren’t terrible. They spoke of having food and credits enough to live reasonably normal lives: to go to commerce hubs (or, as Lance would no doubt have put it, “space malls”), to buy gifts for friends and loved ones, etc. Some of them had even lived well.

            But the Empire seemed to only value the lives of those who worked. Anyone who had an accident or illness, anyone afflicted by a chronic condition, anyone deemed “useless” by the Galra bureaucrats – they were cast aside like so much rubbish. Many of those around her now spoke of trying to beg, borrow, or steal the resources needed for loved ones in order to help them – extra credits for medical treatment, medicine denied by the bureaucracy, or even outright rescuing loved ones from “hospitals” that the elderly and infirm were sent to but never seemed to come out of.

            Most of her fellow prisoners hadn’t sought open rebellion or revolution. They hadn’t had much reason to. Their lives were good under the Empire. Sure, there were some whose people had been enslaved like the Balmerans. But the vast majority surrounding her had never wanted anything but the best for the people they cared about.

            People slept when they were done telling their stories, and those remaining awake spoke quieter out of consideration for them. Allura’s eyes could still only make out the barest details of people, but she could determine outlines for most of those in her immediate vicinity, at least. And she noticed one outline – Gerenda – was quieter than the others.

            As the stories fell away and people fell asleep, she scooted towards them. “You don’t have to share if it’s too painful,” she reassured Gerenda.

            “Gracious of you,” came the clipped response. But it didn’t sound rude; it was more… abrupt, like someone whose train of thought had suddenly crashed.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “No, don’t be. I was just thinking, that’s all.” But there was a hesitation there that spoke what their voice was unwilling to say.

            “Is there something you _do_ want to talk about?” Allura pressed gently.

            “Ye-…No. No, no, it’s nothing. I… I’m a loyal subject of the Empire.” They sounded like they were trying to convince themselves.

            “Then why are you here?”

            “Because I have to be.”

            Allura frowned. “You didn’t deserve whatever happened to you.”

            “No, it’s not that. It’s…” Gerenda’s head – or what Allura took to be their head – turned to “look” at the shapes surrounding them. “…I’d never heard these peoples’ stories before. I’d never even thought to ask.” The head returned to its original position, and Allura felt like she had Gerenda’s gaze upon her. “You’re dangerous to the Empire, princess. I should be doing something about that, but I… I don’t know if I can.”

            Her blood ran cold. “What do you mean?” she asked carefully.

            Gerenda shifted; it looked like they’d pulled their legs up towards their chest, maybe rested their head upon their knees (assuming they were a typical bipedal race). “I believed in the Empire. I _believe_ in the Empire. I do. But I’ve never… All these people. Bedi’s grandmother, Miope’s best friend, Seron’s child. They didn’t deserve what happened to them, and neither did Bedi, Miope, or Seron. I mean, they broke laws, sure, but they didn’t deserve _this_. And now they’re going to be taken to the Arena…” There was a heavy sigh. “Princess, do you even know what awaits you?”

            “I know about the arena,” she said, thinking back to Shiro’s fragments of stories, what memories he could pull up and had been willing to share with them. It made her heart ache. Because he was her friend, right? Just a friend. She pushed that away.

            “These people aren’t fighters, or they wouldn’t have been in the work camp. Before the fights start, sometimes during intermissions, they just bring a bunch of prisoners out into the ring all at once. They sic various creatures upon them, and the audience cheers and laughs as the creatures tear them apart.”

            It made Allura sick to hear, but she stayed quiet.

            “That’s what awaits them all. That’s what they’re being taken to. They won’t even have the honor to die gloriously. They just wanted to help the ones they cared about and their dying screams won’t even be heard over the laughter.”

            Allura was quiet a moment, then something pinged in her. “You… keep saying ‘they’.”

            Gerenda nodded and looked around again briefly. “I won’t share that fate. I…” They sucked in a breath. “I’m a spy. The Empire put me in here to keep an eye on everyone. To make sure they don’t try anything. To find out if anyone is a true danger to the Empire.” Allura felt like the focus of Gerenda’s vision suddenly. “And you are, princess. You are rallying these people. You’re… you’re exactly what Bedi said you are: a hero. And you’re trouble. But…”

            “But?” Allura wanted to encourage the ‘but’ in Gerenda’s voice. She’d figure out a way to silence the spy if she had to, but she didn’t want to. And she wasn’t sure it’d be necessary.

            “…I never knew. I never asked. I didn’t want to know them. I didn’t have to know them. It was easier not to know them. But now I _do_. And they don’t deserve this. None of them deserve this.”

            “So what will you do about it?”

            “I don’t know that there’s anything to be done. You’re very brave, but you’re one person. You can’t save them all.”

            “You said it yourself: I’m rallying them. Together, we can do what one person cannot.”

            Gerenda shook their head. “We’re all bound hand and foot. We’re all weaponless.”

            “We’ll think of something. And your knowledge of the Empire would be a great help.”

            “I feel so conflicted. I’ll end up in the arena if I’m caught.”

            “Then we won’t get caught,” Allura told them, as if it were as simple as that.

            Gerenda was quiet. “You’re willing to trust me? Just like that?”

            Allura shrugged. “What choice do I have? You might reveal me when we arrive, but then that was the plan, wasn’t it? The only difference now is that I know about it.”

            “And that I’m thinking of not doing it,” they tacked on. “I must be insane. It’s THE Empire. The Galra Empire is the most expansive, far-reaching empire in the universe. It practically _is_ the universe!”

            “But you won’t be alone. Just as I’m not alone.” She smiled. “After all, I was captured when the paladins of Voltron and I came to liberate the work camp. Surely you’ve heard of Voltron?”

            “Fairy tales. You’re saying it’s real?”

            “It is. I know the paladins. They are good – if strange – people. They will destroy the Empire.”

            “You think they’ll save us?”

            _I hope not._ _Do I?_ The thought of Shiro striding in, calling for her, holding her close in relief… but that was derailed by the thought of Shiro recaptured, sent back to the ring or to the druids for more experiments… _No. No, stay away and stay safe._ “I don’t know,” she replied truthfully. “But I know that they will bring down the Galra Empire. Perhaps we’ll die, but our deaths will be avenged.”

            “Oh, that’s comforting,” Gerenda retorted. “But… I can’t just pretend I don’t know what I know now. If you’ll trust me, princess – if you can, anyway – I will do what I can.”

            “Thank you, Gerenda.”

            “I’ll start by…” There was a pair of clicks and a slight clinking sound. “I can’t unlock all the cuffs, just mine. At least you’ll have one pair of free hands. And feet.”

            “Every person freed is a good start,” Allura reassured them.


	4. Potential; Free

               Allura rested while she could, preparing. She asked Gerenda to wake her when they were getting close. It was possible she’d wake to a knife in her gut, but she had to show that she trusted them. And, eventually, a gentle hand shook her shoulder in the dark. “It’s time.”

            She smiled at Gerenda – even if the other person couldn’t see it – and sat up. She stretched as best she could, trying to work sore muscles. “My fellow prisoners, listen to me!” she called. Most of them seemed to be awake, but there was the occasional startled sound of awakening. “We’re nearly there. We need to come together to work on freeing ourselves.”

            “We’d love that,” Seron’s voice said nearby. He sounded resigned. “And your determination to fight is…” He seemed to be fishing for the words he wanted.

            “It’s too much,” Bedi piped up. “ _You_ can fight, maybe. It’ll be a quicker death, like Nurt said. But what can the rest of us do? We’re not fighters, or we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”

            “We’d’ve been in the arena already,” Miope reminded them.

            “We still wouldn’t be here right now,” Bedi shot back.

            “At least we’d all be choosing our deaths,” Gerenda commented quietly. “I’d take a quick death over one in the arena.”

            “We can do this if we work together!” Allura insisted. “We just have to talk it out. What do we know? What do we have that we can work with?”

            “We’re prisoners!” someone – Weld, she thought – exclaimed.

            “That’s temporary,” Allura responded. “That’s not _what_ you are. It’s certainly not _who_ you are. It’s the position you’re in right now. And it’s the one we’re going to change.”

            “Absolutely,” Thex chimed in confidently. Allura was about to thank her when she added, “We won’t be prisoners any longer! We’ll be corpses!”

            Allura took a moment to summon up the patience a Princess of Altea needed. “We all die someday. It is one of the universal truths. But you’re wrong when you say you’re not fighters, because that’s exactly what you all are. Each and every one of you.

            “Our future is the same: we’ll all die. But our pasts are the same as well: each of us stood up against the injustice in the Empire, for the sake of those we cared about. That’s fighting! It’s not necessarily throwing punches or shooting guns. It’s pushing back against those who destroy lives for their own selfish ends.”

            “But… but _how_?” Kirte asked plaintively.

            “I can help,” Gerenda said, clearing their throat before adding, “I am… was, I suppose… a Galra spy. I can’t open your cuffs, but I got mine off. And I know exactly how the prisoner transfer will go – the route we’ll take, how many guards should show up to take us there, everything.”

            “That’s a good start,” Allura said before anyone could call Gerenda out. She had to keep them focused on the objective. “And that’s something. It’s more than what we had before. We all have something to contribute. It’s just a matter of figuring it out and working together.”

            “We’ll die,” Bedi predicted.

            “I don’t care!” Everyone turned to look. It was Friend, normally a timid, quiet presence who seemed to be constantly on the verge of tears. He sounded like he was crying now, in fact. “We’re going to die anyway! At least this is something to hope for! At least this is something to do. And… and even if I… if I d-die, if even one of you gets out okay, that’s… that means I did something good.

            “I’ve been in the work camps since I was a child. I’ve been Prisoner No. BX1759 for most of my life! I want to be _a person_ again! I want to decide what sort of person I am! The Galra have told me who I am my whole life, but I don’t have to be what they say! I can make my own choice for the first time since I was caught! And this is what _I_ choose! Maybe… maybe I’ll get out and be able to make a life for myself. Who knows? But even if I die…” He had to stop to sniffle. “…at least it’ll be by _my_ choice and not _theirs_.”

            Everyone was stunned. It took Allura a moment to respond, but she felt like she was also on the verge of tears. “Well said, Friend.”

            “R-really?”

            “I don’t think the Black Paladin of Voltron himself could have said it any better.” _Don’t start thinking of Shiro again._ She missed his motivational speeches. He was so good at them. They gave his team – and her – confidence. But she didn’t want him here, she reminded herself. She didn’t want him in this situation, really. She would’ve loved to have Shiro by her side in almost any other circumstance.

            Bedi’s voice broke in. “Well, I’ve always been considered very charming. Maybe I can seduce a guard.”

            There was some snickering, but Allura latched onto the suggestion. Pessimist Bedi offering support? She had to encourage that. “Perhaps. But we’d need a way to occupy or take out _all_ the guards.”

            “Choke them?” Weld suggested.

            “It takes too long to choke someone to death,” another spoke up.

            “Do we have to kill them?” a third voice asked worryingly.

            “It takes too long to choke someone into unconsciousness.”

            “They’ll send sentries,” Gerenda told them all. “No seduction, no choking.”

            “But also no ‘killing,’” Allura summed up. “They’re machines. So let’s think about this: what can we do?”         


	5. Lost; Found

            It hadn’t gone smoothly. They’d had some losses: in blood, sweat, tears, and lives. Allura couldn’t think of that right now. She could mourn later, when they were out of this mess.

            They were out of the cell – around fifty of them. They were not a small group, able to easily sneak through corridors. Allura wished she remembered Shiro’s counting trick. She hadn’t paid attention to it at the time; she’d focused on his face, on moving when he moved, on the next step and the next hidey-hole. But there was no guarantee these sentries were on the same pattern as the ship sentries anyway.

            Gerenda had been a big help. They knew the sentries would turn on the lights to blind them; they knew there’d be half a dozen of the robot guards; they had told them exactly how it would all play out. And they’d helped take out one of the guards. But getting out of the cell and free of their bonds was only the beginning of winning them all their freedom.

            Allura’s mind flashed back to Seron’s throat being cut by a sentry’s blade. His voice had been so like Shiro’s that sometimes it was her… _no, stop that_ , THE Black Paladin himself being killed. Sometimes it was Shiro’s blood on the floor, looking unnaturally bright in the glaring cell lights. She had to focus. She hadn’t lost Shiro; they’d lost Seron. But Seron’s sacrifice had protected Friend, who was sticking close to her now and trying to quell his tears.

            “Stop,” Gerenda said from Allura’s other side.

            She held up a hand to let the others know to halt. Gerenda was a Galra as it turned out. Allura was doggedly trusting them, but it was hard. She kept her mind on Keith, on the Blade of Marmora, on the knowledge that some Galra _could_ be trusted. _And, for that matter, some Alteans cannot be._

            Gerenda was peering around the corner. “Getting to the ship hangar is not going to be easy,” they murmured. “Especially since, well…” They sounded apologetic.

            “What is it?” Allura prompted.

            “…I’m not exactly sure how to get there,” they admitted. “I know the route from our cell on the ship to the holding cells for arena prisoners. They take us all there, then lead me away with the first group to be selected, separate me for some made-up reason to keep my cover intact, and then I’m sent to wherever else they want me to go. I don’t know exactly where we are, even, just that we’re going the opposite way from the holding cells.”

            “Well, that’s a start,” Allura assured them, even as she tried to chew over how they were going to manage this.

            “So, we’re lost?” Friend hissed in terror.

            “It’s temporary,” Allura responded automatically, trying to calm him.

            “Once we’re closer, I’ll recognize it,” Gerenda said. “I have to take ships to get out to my assignments, after all. But I have no idea how close we are.”

            “Which way to the holding cells from here?” she asked them.

            They thought for a moment and pointed. “That way.”

            “Then let’s keep with our ‘not going in that direction’ strategy for the time being.”

            “There’s a guard in the corridor. I’ll distract him,” Gerenda said. “Once he’s not looking, you get everyone past him, then I’ll catch up.”

            Allura nodded. “Right.”

            Gerenda strolled out as casually as if they owned the place and started chatting up – and flirting a little – with the guard. Allura peered out from around the corner; Gerenda was looking in their direction but the guard was not. They nodded at Allura and she started sending people in ones and twos to move as quickly and quietly as possible past the guard.

            Gerenda would occasionally hold up a hand, and Allura would pause before sending the next group until she saw a laugh and a nod. It seemed to take forever, but finally they all made it past. Allura held them all where they were until Gerenda joined them again.

            “Yeesh, he was a chatty one. And hey, I might have a date for next weekend.” They made a sour face. “Not usually my type, but anyway, let’s keep moving.”

            Suddenly, a klaxon sounded. Everyone froze. “Alert!” a voice declared over the ship’s loudspeaker. “All troops to sector 7-1-K!”

            “Is that about us?” Friend wanted to know, eyes wide.

            “We’re not in 7-1-K!” Gerenda had to yell over the alarm. “I don’t think, anyway.”

            “Well, if they’re not coming to where we are, this is our chance! GO!” Allura grabbed Gerenda’s wrist in one hand and Friend’s in the other and started running.

            “We might literally be running into trouble,” Gerenda warned her.

            Allura turned her head to tell them, “We don’t have a choice!” hoping her voice would carry over the blaring sound of the alarm.

            “Look out!” Friend yelled, too late.

            Allura slammed straight into someone in armor and her already-risen adrenaline surged. But before she could do anything, she heard, “Allura?!” It wasn’t from any of the prisoners.

            She looked up into the face of the Black Paladin. His dark eyes were wide in surprise and a smile was just spreading across his lips.

            Allura threw her arms around Shiro and hugged him until Pidge’s voice suggested that she might want to let the man breathe. She let go hastily and apologized, but he just cleared his throat and told her – in a somewhat weak voice – that it was okay.

            “Is this… the entire work camp?” Pidge asked.

            “Nearly,” she confirmed. “I’m sorry, Pidge, your father’s not among them. I… wait a tick, are _you_ why there’s an alert?”

            “Probably.” Shiro sounded apologetic. “Keith, Lance, and Hunk are holding the bay we breeched. We gotta go.”

            “How are we going to get this many people out in the lions?” Pidge asked. “We only brought Black and Green.”

            “There are ships in the bay,” Shiro reminded her.

            “I’ll fly one of them,” Allura volunteered immediately. She whipped back to the group. “Anyone else know how to pilot?”

            One or two hands shot up.

            “Good enough. Let’s go!”

            Even in a Galra stronghold, even with the alarm making her ears and head ache, even with the knowledge they were running towards danger, Allura’s happiness sang through her veins, intertwining with the panic and fear, smoothing it out. She’d wished so fervently for Shiro _not_ to be here, but now that he _was_ here, she was beside herself with relief and joy to see him. She tried to tell herself that it was because he was free, because he was here to help her rescue the prisoners, that they had an escape route. All of that was true.

            But it wasn’t the only reason. It was getting foolish to keep denying that to herself.

            _Later_ , she promised. _I have to save as many of these people as I can._

She thought of those they’d lost, and of the stories they had told her. But she had to help the rest of them. They’d found their way out; she had to get them there safely.


	6. Black; White

            Allura wanted to cry with joy when she saw the Castle of Lions again. She kept the tears in; she had to pilot this stolen ship into the pod bay, after all. Wouldn’t do to have her vision blurred.

            It’d been a long time since she’d been outside the ship. Longer still since she’d properly appreciated it like this. It was radiant, gleaming white against the eternal blackness of space. It was like a beacon of hope in the darkness.

            But it stabbed her a bit, too. Because this – this beautiful ship – was all that was left of Altea. The Castle and the Lions, of course. But the Lions – and Voltron – belonged to the universe. The Castle was hers just as the Black Lion was Shiro’s. It was all she had of her home now.

            Oh, how she missed Altea. She missed sky and wind and juniberries and mountains. She missed solid ground beneath her feet and sun on her skin. The Castle of Lions was all there was for her – artificial lights and fake flowers. No ocean to swim in, just the pool.

            And its people…

            Memories washed over her like a wave. She had always been surrounded by people. She had never had a moment alone, it seemed. Courtiers, diplomats, staff, friends, lovers, family… Father. She sucked in her tears again.

            But she wasn’t really alone now, was she? She had Coran. She had the mice. She had the paladins. She had Shiro. He’d always been there for her. She could hear his voice in her mind: _“I’m so sorry about your father, princess.”_

            They’d both lost so much at the hands of Zarkon. They were both leaders, expected to push aside considerations deemed irrelevant to the mission at hand. But she’d been shouldering this burden alone for so long. She had to admit she needed help. She couldn’t think of anyone better.

            She refocused on the Castle. It was home and hope and from this distance it looked so small against the infinite void. Small and alone. What difference could this tiny drop of light make against so much darkness?

            But she remembered her cargo: the now-freed prisoners from the work camp. She remembered being in the pitch black of the cell with them, convincing them that each one of them was needed, that together they could do the impossible.

            The Castle shone.

            _After all, that’s what a beacon is, isn’t it? It shines, it calls out, it gathers people to it._

            The Castle wasn’t meant to defeat Zarkon alone. Even Voltron, mighty defender of the universe that it was, wasn’t meant to do so alone. It was one piece of a larger puzzle.

            There would always be darkness in the universe. There would always be evil. But, after ten thousand years, Allura had proof that there would always be hope, as well.

            “How’re you doing over there, princess?” Shiro’s voice asked over the comms.

            She watched the Black Lion swoop in next to her ship. She smiled as she replied, “It’s good to be home.”


	7. Legacy; Revelations

            It took quite a bit of organization. Everyone had a different place to get back to, and they were from planets and systems scattered across several galaxies. Gerenda wanted to be put in touch with the Blade of Marmora. And each one of the former prisoners wanted to personally thank Allura for freeing them. Once she spent a few hours in the cryo-replenisher to heal up her wounds, she made sure to see them all.

            “I will be braver from now on,” Friend promised her. “I’m going to make my own name, but I hope to live up to the title of ‘friend’ that you have bestowed upon me, princess.” He still looked like he wanted to cry, but his smile said they’d be happier tears now.

            Bedi just straight up hugged her and sobbed out of gratitude.

            Everyone who’d made it through promised to remember her, to remember Seron and the others who died getting them out, and to tell their people about Voltron, the paladins, and the brave princess who led them. “We’ll tell them what you told us,” Miope said. “Nothing dies so long as it’s remembered. Hope lives on in the universe, through you and the paladins.”

            Allura, back in her royal gown, smiled. “It lives on through all of us.”

            She was surprised at how emotional she got watching the ships and pods depart. She waved each one off to their various destinations. They were taking Gerenda to the Blade’s headquarters, and as the last ship became a bright dot in the distance, they sighed.

            “How do you do it, princess?”

            “Do what?”

            “Manage to give hope to so many without losing any yourself?”

            Allura’s smile turned sad. “Hope’s not a finite resource. But still, who says I never lose hope? It’s not easy to hold on to hope; sometimes fighting for hope means fighting for it for yourself as well. But I have others to stand beside me in that fight.”

            As if on cue, the door opened and Shiro strode in. Allura and Gerenda both turned to look at him. She couldn’t help smiling and, when she looked back to Gerenda, she saw them smirking a little.

            “I think I understand.”

            Allura opened her mouth to protest, but Gerenda bid her good day and left, casting an appraising look over the Black Paladin, now in his “civilian” clothes, as they passed him.

            Shiro just nodded to them and then smiled over at Allura. She cleared her throat and tried not to fidget with her hair or smooth out her clothes. “Shiro.”

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

            “You didn’t. We just finished seeing off the last group, headed to the Bantex quadrant. And I’m glad you’re here. I’d like to talk with you.”

            “Really?” His eyebrows rose. “What about?”

            “Well…” She chewed her lower lip in thought of how she wanted to say it, which words to use, how to phrase it.

            But Shiro groaned and looked away.

            “Are you alright?” she asked him in sudden concern.

            “You’re biting your lip,” he whined.

            “I’m… sorry? Why is that a problem?” That was when she noticed he was blushing.

            “It’s just… well…” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not a _problem_ , per se, but it’s…”

            She did it again and he literally threw his hands up in the air.

            “Okay, now you’re just doing it on purpose!”

            She giggled. “Well, I thought perhaps it would help you find the words to describe your reaction to it if you saw it again. I was only trying to help.”

            He narrowed his eyes at her. “Oh yes, of course. Thank you _so_ _much_ , princess.” But he was grinning a little.

            “Thank you for coming to our rescue,” she said suddenly. She hadn’t meant to start there, but it had just burst out of her.

            He blinked, and his grin melted away. _Damn._ “I couldn’t just leave you there. _We_ couldn’t, I mean.”

            “I have to confess I’d hoped you wouldn’t come.”

            “Wait, ‘wouldn’t’?” His brow furrowed.

            “Well, that close to the center of the Empire, it was dangerous and…” She exhaled and made herself get it out. “When I came to, I was worried at first that you’d been captured with me. They told me we were going to the arena, and I was so glad you weren’t there, because I didn’t want you to have to go through that again.”

            He tensed a little at the word ‘arena,’ but then visibly relaxed. She thought he might be forcing it a bit, but his smile, though thin, seemed genuine enough. “Just like you to worry over someone else when you’re the one in danger.”

            “I thought of you a lot, Shiro. I wouldn’t even have gotten captured in the first place if I hadn’t charged in to try to help you, but I… well, I couldn’t just leave you there,” she parroted his words back at him.

            He snorted once. “I know. I’m the Black Paladin, and…”

            She shook her head. “It’s not just that. I mean, obviously that _is_ part of it, but it’s more than that. I was afraid to lose _you_ , Shiro. And while I was in that cell, I could only think of two things: how to get us all out and,” she took a steadying breath, “how much I missed you.”

            His cheeks started to redden. “Oh.” He cleared his throat again. “I… I actually wanted to tell you that I missed you, too. Not having you here, I’ve slept terribly – well, worse than usual – and I couldn’t do anything except focus on how to track you down and get you back.”

            She could feel her own face starting to heat. “And running into you in the hallway there, seeing you again, hugging you, it felt like…”

            “…like the whole universe got set right again,” he finished for her.

            She nodded. “Exactly.”

            He licked his lips. “So… are we both saying what I really hope we’re saying?”

            She smiled, feeling out of breath despite doing nothing more than standing there and staring up into his eyes. “I know it may be… inconvenient at times, but I can’t go on pretending I don’t feel anything for you, Shiro. It’s lying to myself and to all of you. You all deserve the truth.”

            He smiled wide and reached over with his right hand, brushing some hair back behind her ear. “You deserve it as well. So I’ll have to stop pretending I don’t care for you, too, princess.”

            “Allura,” she corrected, trying not to plead with him. She wasn’t sure if she drifted in closer to him or if he had leaned towards her; perhaps both. It didn’t matter.

            He whispered her name against her lips just before they kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! Happy Shallura Week 2017, everyone! ^_^ 
> 
> Here's hoping that I learned my lesson and next year I do separate one shots like a sane person.   
> HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!


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